


Good Idea

by haganenoheichou



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Budding Relationship, Casual Sex, FMA Secret Santa 2016, M/M, royed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 19:21:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9006157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haganenoheichou/pseuds/haganenoheichou
Summary: Casual sex seemed like a good idea at the time.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jujubee2522](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujubee2522/gifts).



> Written for the FMA Secret Santa 2016 event! To my giftee, @jujubee2522! I hope you like this.

Bodies pressed together, a sheen layer of sweat between them. Soft moans, stifled with bitten lips and roaming tongues. Hands splayed all over, touching sheets and skin. A mounting cacophony of sounds: whispered instructions, groans, shifts, wet noises of skin hitting skin. Kisses dropped everywhere but the lips. Never the lips. Too intimate.

An escalation. A peak. A descent.

The two of them collapsed onto the bed, panting.

Edward looked down at the man beneath him, his long blond hair spilling over his sweat-slicked shoulders.

“Good?” He asked, his face flushed. Roy’s mouth stretched into a smirk.

“You tell me.”

With a groan, Edward detached himself from the older man, falling to the mattress next to him. His body seemed to mourn the loss, stupidly enough. Then again, this was kind of why they were doing it. To satisfy the needs of their bodies.

Ed reached for his coat which he’d left abandoned on the floor among a mess of shirts, pants, and socks (Roy had an anti-sock policy in bed), and pulled out a cigarette case. He took a pre-rolled one out expertly, spinning it between deft flesh fingers before turning back towards Roy.

“Light?”

The Flame Alchemist frowned at him but consented – this was part of the agreement. Edward could smoke in bed.

“You know those are bad for you,” Roy said his usual old-man line, watching Edward take a drag. The young blond shrugged.

“So is sex with superior officers,” he replied casually. “But you don’t have your knickers in a twist over that one.”

“Former superior officer. And you’re the one who agreed to this,” Roy pointed out, turning onto his side so that he could get a better look at Edward. He had to admit, grudgingly, that the young man was quite a catch. After all, the youngest Alchemist to ever be, and the winner of the Homunculus war (even though he’d had a tremendous amount of help in that one), had grown into a very good-looking person. Too bad about his Alchemy. Then again, if Edward had not lost his Alchemy, he would have probably had to stick with the military for a while to help rebuild the country post-disaster. As it was, he had disappeared for a couple of years before finally returning to Central, to a hopeful Führer-to-be and all around womanizer Roy Mustang.

Except Mustang had grown weary of sleeping around – and it had already begun to chip away at his reputation. So, one night, when Edward Elric breezed back into his life and sat right next to him at his usual bar, he had propositioned him.

It was a thing of convenience. Edward had been curious about sex, and Roy had been desperate. At least, that was what Roy had always thought about their arrangement.

Edward accepted Roy’s words without protest. It was true, he’d accepted. He’d accepted for various reasons, one of them being loneliness, but he had stayed for months and months and then two whole years for a whole different reason whatsoever.

It was easy to appear nonchalant in front of Roy Mustang – the man knew Edward well, or he thought he did, and to him, the blond had always been a temperamental, spoiled brat who, nevertheless, kept his cool. And that was how Roy still saw him. It was convenient to use the reputation Ed had earned with the man, in order to continue doing _this_.

Too bad it was becoming torture.

Edward was comfortable with elements and equations and poring over books. He was not comfortable with feelings – never had been. Hell, until recent, he’d never even held another naked body against his own. But with Mustang, with _Roy_ , it was so _easy_. He could forget about discomfort for several blissful hours and just let himself feel the physical gratification of being alive alongside another human being.

It wasn’t all about sex.

But for the sake of prolonging this train-wreck, it was.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?”

The sudden question nearly made Edward choke on the smoke of his cigarette. He stifled his surprise masterfully, though, and turned to look at the man lazily.

“More of the usual. Research,” he replied curtly, eyeing Roy with some interest. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” Roy replied, a bit too quickly to be genuine. “Just wondering.”

“No, what is it?” Edward asked, frowning. “Is something going on?”

“Nothing’s going on. Just wondering if… you had anywhere to go for Christmas,” Roy said, pursing his lips. Ed’s eyebrows shot up.

“I wasn’t aware I needed a place to go for Christmas. My apartment is good enough for me, it should be good enough for the fictional delusion that is Santa Claus,” he replied.

“May I offer an alternative?”

_Why are you doing this to me?_

“Which is?”

“Have dinner here. Stay after dinner,” Roy said simply. His eyes were pinning Edward down – a clear sign that he was uncomfortable. Unlike most people, who averted their gaze when they felt insecure, Roy had taught himself to maintain eye-contact. Even though sometimes it looked like he was trying to take a big shit, he was staring so much.

“Okay,” Edward replied with a shrug. “I’m not cooking, though. Takeout it is, though.”

“I can cook perfectly well,” Roy said, a bit stung by the assumption.

“Really?” Edward asked, intrigued now. “Since when?”

“I never cook when I’m alone. It doesn’t make sense to spend so much time and effort cooking for one. But I want a decent Christmas dinner this year, so… hence, my invitation,” Roy replied. “I bought a duck.”

“You bought a duck,” Edward repeated slowly. He snorted. “Then I’m definitely showing up. I want to see you in a frilly apron.”

Roy scoffed, shoving the younger man playfully.

* * *

“No fucking way.”

Edward had unceremoniously picked the lock and walked through the front door of Roy's house, only to see the older man puttering about the kitchen, a pink apron slung over his neck and tied in a neat bow behind his back.

Roy looked over his shoulder, entirely unsurprised by the self-invited guest.

“Figured you’d barge in here,” he said impassively. “Hughes gave me this as a joke. I supposed it would make sense to entertain you.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Edward said with a laugh, placing a bottle of wine onto the dinner table. “Here. The lady at the winery said it was the best. She practically simpered over it.”

Roy glanced at the label.

“This _is_ good. Expensive, too,” he said, impressed. Edward shrugged, taking his coat off and hanging it up by the door. He rolled up his sleeves, exposing his two flesh arms.

“Need help?” He asked.

“Carrots and potatoes need cutting,” Roy said. “I want to roast them with rosemary. Hope that’s good.”

“Rosemary’s good,” Edward said, getting to work while Roy checked on the duck in the oven. The smell of it was quite heavenly, and Edward, who’d never quite shaken his propensity to eat for two, felt his mouth begin to water.

They spent the next half-hour cooking together in amicable silence, only exchanging a word or two in the meanwhile.

When the time came, Roy took off the apron (much to Ed’s chagrin), and Edward set the table. They sat down to eat, and Roy uncorked the wine expertly, pouring both of them a glass.

“To Christmas?” He offered quietly. Ed’s golden eyes met his and for a moment, the former Alchemist felt _something_ between them that wasn’t just a dinner of duck and a promise of casual sex.

“To Christmas,” he murmured, taking a sip.

Dinner turned out to be delicious, and once the dishes were done and the leftovers packed away, they sat on the couch, finishing the wine. The slightly drunken atmosphere made both their tongues loose, Edward’s more than Roy’s, and they ended up speculating on Ling’s sex life, of all things, stumbling over words and giggling idiotically from time to time as they tried to picture the new Xing Emperor in all his regalia.

"It must be nice, having so many wives to sleep with," Edward said absent-mindedly, twirling the glass by the stem in his hand.

“Eh, I bet it gets tiring after a while,” Roy said with a snort. “Polygamy’s not all fun. Too many people to maintain and care about. Not to mention, the amount of energy one needs… Eh.”

“Is that why you stopped?” Edward asked suddenly, his words clearer than they had been for a while. Roy looked up sharply.

“Perhaps,” he said after a while. “That and the fact that the Führer can’t have that many questionable liaisons.”

"So… you went for a male fuck buddy instead?" Edward laughed. Roy surveyed him for a long time.

“I don’t think of you as that,” he said. “You’re… different.”

Edward snorted.

“God, don’t go turning romantic on me. You’re a sappy drunk, aren’t you?”

“Edward, why did you say yes?”

That brought Ed up short. He forced himself to look at Roy, his gaze a little unfocused.

“It seemed like a good idea.”

Time passed between them. Then, Roy placed his wine glass back onto the coffee table and leaned over, taking Edward’s from him as well. Their faces were too close. Close enough to kiss.

That had been rule number one.

_We don’t kiss. Too intimate._

There were lips on Edward’s. Foreign lips. Roy’s lips. A soft sigh escaped the younger man’s mouth and he closed his eyes, his drunkenness allowing him to enjoy this despite future regret.

Roy’s hand settled on his cheek and he sank into the touch.

The clock chimed.

Roy pulled away.

“Why did you do that?” Edward asked, his voice raw. The older man shifted, leaning his forehead against Edward’s in a gesture that seemed even more intimate than the kiss.

 “It seemed like a good idea.”


End file.
